The Meaning of a Rubber Duck
by G12G4
Summary: Arthur Weasley meets a young Narcissa Black as she begins her first year of Hogwarts. At first, it seems like a dream come true, but dark clouds linger on the horizon.


Author's Note:

Written for The Golden Snitch Forum Challenge: The Nautical Ship Challenge  
Prompt: Arthur Weasley and Narcissa Malfoy - H.M.S. Forbidden Affair

* * *

"So what do you think the first years will be like this year?" a black haired boy nudged the thin redheaded boy next to him.

"I don't know, Bert." Arthur Weasley replied, eyeing the empty gold plates hungrily, as if they might be compelled to produce food if he just stared at them hard enough. The summer had added four inches to his height and he expected more to follow. It seemed all he did these days was eat, or think about eating. He dreamt of giant banquets every night. Yet, it seemed, no matter how much he ate, he never seemed to add a pound to his freckled frame. "I only hope there's not a lot of them this year. Last year it took almost an hour before we got to eat."

"How are you still hungry?! You had six cauldron cakes on the train," a female voice said.

"And how is that any business of yours, Molly Prewitt?" Bert shot back to the young woman with hair the same shade as Arthur's.

She turned a brighter shade of red. "It's not. I just can't believe he could still be hungry."

"I also had four pumpkin pasties," Arthur added. "Doesn't matter. No matter how much I eat I never seem to be full. It's like someone put an extending charm on my stomach."

"If you aren't careful that won't be the only thing that's extending. You don't want to be fat."

"You'd know a thing or two about that, wouldn't you Mollywobbles?" Bert said. She worked hard at it, but just as Arthur could never seem to gain a pound, she never seemed to be able to lose one. Arthur was irritated with his friend for such a low blow. Sure, Molly had a habit of sticking her nose in other people's business a bit to often, but she was nice enough and a talented witch. She'd helped him on more than one occasion when he just couldn't seem to get the flick of his wand right.

Molly turned even redder with embarrassment and stomped her foot. "Albert Runcorn, you are terrible."

Bert ran his tongue against the inside of his lower lip. "Terrible? Maybe you should meet me out by the Forbidden Forest and I'll show you how terrible I can be-"

"He doesn't mean any harm by it Molly," Arthur interrupted. "I think Mollywobbles is a cute name." That was the wrong thing to say. He was quite sure she couldn't turn any redder.

"Oh! Maybe you'd rather Arthur take you out by the forest, he can show you some extending."

"You both are horrible!"

"Hey, what are you doing to upset my little sister?" A tall, handsome young man with wavy red hair and wearing a prefect's badge asked, seeming to have appeared behind Molly's shoulder.

Bert cursed under his breath, "Damn it! It's Gideon. We're in for it now."

"Nothing, I was just leaving." Molly said with a flourish as she walked off with her brother, who shot a warning look at the boys.

"That was mean, Bert. She's not that bad."

"She's annoying and dumpy. There are far better witches to waste your time with. Speaking of that, will you take a look at her!"

"Who?" Arthur turned left and right trying to see who Bert was meaning.

"That girl near the front of the line."

Arthur looked. His eyes nearly popped out of his head when he saw her. She was tall, as many of the girls were when they came in, but usually they were gangly things, all arms and legs and not much else. But she was what his mother would have called an early bloomer, her body was thin, delicate, but well formed. She could have passed for sixteen. Her long blond hair shone like liquid platinum cascading from her head to her shoulders. Her face was as beautiful and pale as if it had been rendered in ivory. Her blue eyes darted back and forth nervously, searching the room.

"Bert, she's eleven."

"I'll say she's an eleven."

"Come off it, Bert. I mean yeah, she's cute, but she's just a kid."

"That just means she doesn't know better yet."

"And you intend to show her?"

"You know it." Bert winked. "I mean she's got to learn it from somewhere, right?" Arthur really didn't like this side of his friend. Every since last year it seemed like getting with girls was all he could think about. Not that Arthur hadn't felt the same, but at least he wasn't such a pig about it.

"Narcissa Black." Prof. Dumbledore called out.

"Black! Like the House of Black? Well that changes things. If I could get a Black girl. Merlin's beard, I'd take her name when we married!"

"The House of Black isn't all it's cracked up to be," Arthur said, sulkily.

"How would you know? Oh Yeah, your mum's a Black, isn't she."

"Yeah, she was disowned for marrying a..." he hesitated, "a blood traitor."

"Tough break. Well, it's not like a name like Runcorn would be enough to turn the head of a Black. Do you think she's related to Bella and Andromeda?"

"Well, she's a Black. So yeah, probably."

"I wonder how-"

"Slytherin!" the Sorting Hat cried.

"Hey, a hatstall!" I wonder between what?" Bert said.

"Maybe you could ask her." Arthur was tired of this.

"Oh look, she's going over to the Slytherin table. Even her walk is perfect. Oh look, Bellatrix and Andromeda are waving her over, they're hugging her! She just sat down between them!"

"Yeah, she's their sister." Arthur finally remembered the name. She was one of the trio of sisters. He had seen them, once, in an old photo his mum had. Bellatrix was the oldest, she had the copious waves of black curls and heavily lidded eyes, giving her the superior appearance of a queen. She was currently occupying the lap of Rodolphus LeStrange. Andromeda was the second child, her hair was a mousy brown, but her face was gentle and pleasant. She had always seemed nicer than her older sister. She was friendly with his friend Ted. More than friendly. She really seemed to like him. But Arthur knew that would be impossible. She was a Black of the House of Black and Ted Tonks was a nobody. Less than a nobody - a muggleborn. She'd never be allowed to even think about dating him.

"And when were you going to tell me that, you pratt!"

"Maybe when you stopped acting like such a git."

"Well, there goes my dream. Bellatrix and Andromeda, respectively, would kill me. They'd bring me back to life and kill me again."

"Magic can't do that."

"They're the Black sisters, they'd find a way."

* * *

It was later that week, as Arthur was walking down the corridor, fighting the crush of students during course change, that suddenly a cache of books splayed out in front of him. Ink spilled out everywhere in a huge puddle. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" a girl cried, frantically pulling her books and parchment together. Her long, flaxen hair dipping into the ink puddle as she worked. "Someone pushed me!" She was in tears. "That was my only ink! Now I'll have to go back to the dungeon and I'll be late for class again and he'll give me detention for sure!"

Arthur knelt down, shuffling the papers and books back together. "Hey, it's not as bad as all that."

"Yes it is!" Her face was crumpled and puffy with tears. It was hardly the thing of beauty Bert had soliloquized on all that night. It was the first time he had seen her that she actually looked like she was eleven. He smiled warmly. "Bella told this boy with long blond hair to take me to class, but I lost sight of him and then I got lost and someone pushed me and my inks gone and I don't know where I am!"

"It's ok. Here." Arthur pulled out a black wand with white tips and flicked it. Immediately a string of brightly colored handkerchiefs burst forth from it. Narcissa looked stunned. "Dry your eyes," he said, handing her the first of the line.

She dabbed her eyes with the cloth. "What is that?"

"Do you like it? Muggles call it a Trick Wand. You see, when you set it up, it's supposed to make it look like a muggle can do magic. I saw a man using one the last time I was in London."

"What other tricks can it do?" she asked handing the handkerchief string back to Arthur, her curiosity piqued so that her tears abated.

"Just the one," he said, pushing the clothes back into the wand.

"Only one trick?"

"Yes, and muggles go mad for it."

"May I see it?"

"Of course." He handed it over to her. She gave it a few flicks before she brought it to her eyes, examining it closely. "Just be careful of the- whoops!" The string of handkerchiefs shot out at her head. She smiled.

"Is it supposed to be a magic wand?" She asked as the cloth rainbow covered her shoulders.

"I think so."

She started laughing. "It's the ugliest wand I've ever seen."

Arthur started laughing to. "I suppose it is. Come on now, I'll take you to class. Where are you going now?"

"Charms."

"Charms it is."

"But what about my ink?"

Arthur reached into his pocket and produced an ink bottle. "Here, you can have mine. I have Transfiguration with Dumbledore anyway. We never use pens. I can use Bert's for the rest of my classes until lunch."

"Thank you... What's your name?"

"Arthur, Weasley," he added his last name like an afterthought.

"Weasley? You're family is one of the Sacred Twenty-eight, aren't you?"

"Well, yes, but I don't think about it much."

"That's good. Mother doesn't like me talking to lesser families."

"I wouldn't call them lesser, just different," Arthur said. She tilted her head in confusion. Actually, she was pretty cute. Really cute. Problematically cute. He smiled in what he hoped was a charming way as he picked up the stack of books and parchment, holding them up near his waist level. "Come on, let's go. Don't want you to be late." She went to take the books from him. "Don't worry, I'll carry them."

"Ok," she said shyly.

"You can hold onto my arm if you like. You know, so we don't get separated." She smiled happily and did just that, placing her dainty hand into the crook of his arm. He felt almost ten feet tall as he walked her to class, conscious of the envious looks he was receiving from the other boys.

As they got to the door she looked sullen. "Here," she said holding out the wand."

"That's ok, you keep it. First year is always hard, maybe it'll brighten up your day again, sometime."

"Ok." she tried to smile.

Arthur felt almost the same as she looked. "What's your next class?"

"Astronomy," she answered.

"Hmmm... Getting to the astronomy tower can be tricky. But fortunately, I know a shortcut. I'll meet you here after class and take you. How does that sound?"

She grinned, veritably hopping with excitement. "Oh thank you!" she cried. She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek. His face turned as red as his hair.

* * *

When he came to pick her up she held his hand the entire way to her class. And that is how Arthur passed the next two weeks: picking her up from class and taking her to her next one, hand in hand, and then making a mad dash for his own. Molly still wasn't talking to him. He didn't think Mollywobbles was that bad a name to deserve such a shunning. Bert was furious that he had someone managed to snake the Black girl away from him, but let Bert be furious. Bert could be furious all he wanted to be. He had the prettiest girl in the world holding his hand and he was sure he would marry her someday. Of course, he was quite a bit older, but that was ok, he could get a job in the Ministry and be well established by the time she graduated. Then they could get married and start a family.

There was only one problem. Sometimes she would say terrible things. It was clear she didn't realize they were terrible. Things about blood purity, squibs, mudbloods, and mudwallowers (a cruel term for people like his father who were considered blood traitors). He figured it was just a function of her bad upbringing, afterall, the Blacks were fanatical blood purists. Every time she would say something he would gently point out that others might think differently. He figured through his influence she'd come to understand muggles were fascinating in their own way and had their own sort of magic. Like a thermos. How did one little cylinder keep soup hot but juice cold? It was fascinating!

When Bert found out they hadn't even kissed yet he called it a waste, but Arthur was in no hurry - it was his first kiss and he didn't want to get it wrong. Besides, they had plenty of time. Mostly they just talked.

"What do you want to do after Hogwarts?" he asked her one day as they were lying on the grass on the front lawn, holding hands.

"I think I'd like to master healing magic and become a healer," she said.

"You'd make a good healer."

She smiled at his compliment. "Do you really think so?"

"Of course! You're really sweet and caring."

She beamed, half turned over and kissed him on the cheek. "What do you want to do when you leave?"

"Well, I've always been interested in muggle things, so I thought I might put in an application for the Office of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts."

"Muggle artifacts. That sounds a bit silly, doesn't it? I mean, it's nice for a hobby, but not a job. Wouldn't you want to do something more respectable, like own a shop? Or join the Wizengamot?"

"I don't think I have what it takes for the Wizengamot, but a shop might be nice. Buy a house, raise a family. How many kids do you think you'd want?"

"Oh at least three."

"Three?"

"Yes. Like me and my sisters. It's the perfect number. Why, how many do you want?

"Oh, at least a dozen!"

She laughed, sitting up to look at him. "A dozen?"

"Yeah, I had two siblings as well and it was all fine and good, but sometimes there wasn't anyone to play with. I want a big house full of kids and love."

Narcissa lay back down wriggling her shoulders. "A house full of love does sound nice."

"Cissy! Get up!" a harsh voice ordered. The faces of Bellatrix and Andromeda Black came into view. Arthur and Narcissa stood, still holding hands.

"Unhand my sister, you mudwallower!" Bellatrix said, her craggy wand out.

"What is it, Bella?" Narcissa asked, concerned.

"Arthur Weasley, son of Septimus Weasley, the blood traitor?"

Arthur stood firm. "Yes, Septimus is my father, but there's no such thing as a blood traitor. It's only something people who want to make themselves feel better than everyone else say so that they can pretend they have value by virtue of something as stupid as an old name."

"Arthur!" Narcissa cried in shock.

"I said it, and I don't regret it."

"He's as bad as his father! Come on Cissy!" Bellatrix grabbed her hand and Andromeda the other and began pulling her away.

"Arthur! Arthur! Tell them you were just joking! Arthur!" Narcissa cried. But Arthur would not be moved to deny it.

* * *

The next day Narcissa approached him in the corridor, it was clear she had been crying, probably all night. She held out her hands to him, both balled into fists and slowly opened them to reveal two halves of a broken trick wand, the colored handkerchiefs incinerated. "Father says I'm not to talk to you anymore." She dropped the broken wand into his hand. Then she turned and ran, sobbing, toward the dungeon as Bellatrix watched imperiously next to her sister, Andromeda. The eldest sister gave a "hmmph", stuck her nose in the air as though she had smelt something particularly foul, and walked away. Andromeda walked over to where Arthur stood, ashes and broken wand still in his stunned hands.

"Bellatrix found it yesterday under her pillow. She sent a letter home. We got a howler this morning. Just... just stay away from her." Andromeda said, sadly, before turning and following her sisters.

Arthur felt like the world was moving around him but he wasn't moving with it. He had no recollection of how he got to his classes or to the common room, where he sat, slumped over, with his chin on the table. Then something bright and yellow was plopped in front of him. It had a great smile on its orange bill. He looked up to see Molly standing there. He took hold of the thing. It was soft and pliable in his hands. He squeeze it and it let out a squeak. "What is it?" he asked, staring at it in wonderment.

"Fabian said the muggles call it a Rubber Duck."

He squeezed it again, next to his ear to hear the weird squeak again, he smiled. "What is it for?"

"I don't know. You're the one who's always so good at figuring these things out."

He squeezed it twice more. "You're right, I am." He looked up at Molly as though really seeing her for the first time. Clever, steadfast, good Molly, who always believed in him, who always wanted to help those who were in trouble, never thought he was stupid for liking muggle things. "Do you want to go for a walk and try to figure it out?"

Molly blushed crimson. "I'd love to."


End file.
